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“Not good form to mix business with pleasure, Abel,” my father said.
I ignored them, of course, and smiled at as many pretty girls as I could.
I did a brisk business this day, with a portrait of Phoebe’s family entitled Mrs. Papandreou the Dog Lady and Her Human Puppies, as well as a photographic tableau of Dolly and Betty posed in the unlikely historic meeting of Helen of Troy and Cleopatra, an event that could truly be called monumental. When a handsome lady in a fashionable little hat and veil approached me, I held out my wares, but she ignored the photographs and eyed me like a dog eyes a bone. “Do you have any unusual qualities to show me privately?” she drawled in a husky voice.
“No … no, ma’am,” I stammered.
“What a shame,” she said, and chuckled.
Albert Sunderland hobbled by on three of his four legs and caught her attention. As the woman left me in pursuit of him, I remembered the gossip about what lay between those legs, and understood her desire. I blushed to the tips of my normal extremities. I wanted a sweetheart who thought me an interesting fellow, not a novelty act.
After work I grabbed my towel and walked down the driveway to meet Apollo. I knew that he’d be mad enough to bite fleas at having to wait for me to take him swimming, but no madder than I was at always being assigned as nursemaid to the boy. The swimming hole lay outside Faeryland, and Colonel Kingston wanted none of his special people to go there unaccompanied. Perhaps he feared they’d be kidnapped by a rival show.
As soon as I reached the wrought-iron gates, Apollo ran through the trees yipping, as happy as a dog on a summer day, and any ire I felt, dissolved. He danced a little over the hot gravel of the road in his bare feet, but he didn’t slow down. I swear he looked like he was wagging a tail as he finally panted before me. He’d been called a puppy for so long he believed he was one.
“Come on, Abel,” he said. “I’m about to bake like apple pie.”
“You’re the hairiest apple pie I’ve ever seen,” I answered. “Someone must have dropped you on the rug.” I took a playful swipe at him, and he growled at me but then ruined the effect by laughing.
Down at the hole we stripped to our birthday suits and hung our clothes on the bushes.
“Race you in,” said Apollo, but I won.
What a shame we had no time to enjoy the water.
“Well, lookit here,” a voice whined as I surfaced from a clumsy dive. “I’ve heard of a catfish, but I ain’t never heard of a dog fish.”
Two boys stood at the edge of the pond—the two I’d seen in town that noon. They had big boots and mean faces and meant to have business with us whether we wanted it or not.
3
THE HOT DAY SUDDENLY FELT much cooler as I stood waist deep in glass green water, facing a pair of bullyboys.
This was my fault. Had I not stepped over the invisible boundary in town, all would be well. Now I had put Apollo, a mere twelve-year-old boy, in danger. Perhaps all opponents appear much larger when one faces them stark naked; these boys were bigger than I remembered. My mind raced to think of a way out of this awkward situation. Would a witty quip, perhaps, win them over? Could I bluff my way out without a fight?
“We thought we’d have to throw rocks at you over the wall,” said the dark-haired one. “We didn’t think we’d discover you out here.”
“And with a bonus freak too,” said the one with crooked teeth.
Apollo growled.
“Stop that,” I whispered from the side of my mouth. “How may I help you gentlemen?” I asked.
Crooked Teeth laughed and caricatured a bow to his companion. He put on a hoity-toity voice. “We gentlemen wanted to inform you of our displeasure at your addressing the ladies of the town—with your not being a gentleman, and all. We was hoping to put the point forcefully so you’d remember it.”
I glanced over to the bushes and wondered about my chances of retrieving our clothes, not that one could dress while being pummeled.
“Want these?” the dark-haired one asked, and pulled Apollo’s knickers from behind his back, along with my canvas trousers. “Guess you’ll have to come out and get them, lest something happen to them.”
I was getting cold and feeling foolish. I didn’t care to be trapped in the water like a stag at bay, and I couldn’t allow Apollo to be hurt. As much as I didn’t want to fight, I had to settle this. “Stay where you are,” I told Apollo. I summoned as much dignity as I could muster and waded to the bank.
The young thugs roared with laughter and slapped their knees.
“Lookit him,” said the dark-haired boy. “In nothing but his cheap Gypsy jewelry. Stole it from a girl, did you?”
I put my ring hand behind my back before I could think twice.
“There’s his doggy, paddling after,” gasped the crooked-toothed boy. Apollo had ignored my wishes. Drat the boy.
